Simple Operations
by Naazuri
Summary: MOVED ACCOUNTS
1. Life and Death

Title: Simple Operations

Main Pairing: Tony/Ziva

Warnings: Violence, Sexual Content, Mention of Suicide, Substance Abuse

Rating: T (may change)

Chapter: Life and Death

Word Count: 1,958

Summary: All it takes is a single bullet, to ruin friendships and careers, to make friends and find love and turn colleagues into much more than that. The only thing they have to do to make life something better for all of them, is live.

--

* * *

The _simple_ operation took a grim turn when shots rang out, ripping through the air. The atmosphere in the restaurant where Special Agents Anthony DiNozzo and Ziva David where undercover, though jovial the moment before, quickly turned to panic.

Tony grabbed his gun, the camera in his glasses swung side to side as he stood, searching for the shooter. Ziva, just to his side, didn't stand; her head slumped gently over the silk table cloth. Tony didn't realize it, his back turned to hers.

"DiNozzo!" Supervisory Agent Gibbs shouted into his earpiece, "What's going on in there? How many are down?" He demanded, his tone absolute steel. The only eyes he had in there were DiNozzo's and they were currently giving him whiplash, the plasma screen trying to keep up with the camera in his Agent's glasses.

"Sorry boss," he responded quickly, brows furrowing, Ziva was being too quiet, and her breathing was too shallow. He turned on his heel, looking to her. Tony's eyes opened wider than he thought possible, a lump rising in his throat. Her hair was still in the tight, though ornamental bun on the back of her head, he had a perfect view of the blood slipping down the back of her gown. "No," he whispered, grabbing her wrist and trying, focusing, on the faint pulse, too faint.

Gibbs and McGee sat in the van, shell shocked, it took Agent Lee to call for a priority ambulance. She sat before looking up at Gibbs, wondering silently if he could bare to lose another agent, not only an agent, but a woman.

"She's here boss," DiNozzo whispered. "Barely, Gibbs, but she's still here." The world was too still, Ziva was loosing blood, fast, but Tony was too afraid of doing further damage to try and stop the torrent. "Ambulance?" he asked… his voice was still soft.

The only confirmation he got was Gibbs' raspy whisper, "Yeah Tony, it's on its way."

* * *

"Its touch and go at the moment," The solemn doctor admitted, he'd introduced himself only moments before as Doctor Mariner, an odd coincidence. "The Kevlar chest plate appeared to have saved her from a lot of the initial force of the bullet, though it penetrated. It missed her heart, the worry now is for her arteries and her spinal cord," Doctor Mariner didn't look like he was telling the whole truth, which was enough to make Gibbs' jaw set in annoyance. He'd been dealing with deciphering what doctors were saying for the past few hours, it was more than he was willing to deal with.

"What do you mean: spinal cord?" he asked, putting emphasis on the body part, if he couldn't see it, he'd ask.

"Ziva, Agent David, will have serious motor problems," Doctor Mariner said grimly, his eyes dancing over Gibbs' face; he really didn't like the idea of men with guns receiving bad news.

Gibbs felt his finger twitch toward his gun; all the vague responses were getting to him. "Like, she won't be able to return to the field?" he pressed.

The doctor turned to the surgeon who'd removed the bullet, the grim look in his eyes ran down to the rest of his face. The surgeon removed his mask and nodded slightly. "Agent David may not regain use of her legs. If she does regain any use it will take months, maybe years of physical therapy to regain full use, though, because of her excellent condition I have the best prospects."

"'The best _prospects'_?" Gibbs repeated, then shook his head, walking back over to the window of the ICU where Abby, McGee, and Tony all had chairs. Lee and a different team were working the scene, Gibbs knew when to pull his team off of a case, he rarely did it willingly, but he'd almost lost yet another of his own, it was different.

"What did the doctors say, boss?" Tony asked, it was easy to tell he felt as bad as he sounded.

"She'll be lucky if she's able to walk DiNozzo. They said it'll take years for her to regain full use, if she gets any at all." Gibbs didn't sugar coat things, and he was hardly in the mood at the moment. Tony's eyes darkened again, looking back at Ziva, a tube down her throat, the vitals on the screens around her uneven. Ziva wasn't a victim; she just didn't look right in a hospital. If she were in a movie, she was the type of character who pulled the bullet out with her teeth, and then went on to kick the ass of whoever shot her. She could also look sexy as hell while doing it.

"Who do you think they shot?" Tony asked, getting an upset glare from Abby.

"Ziva, Tony! They shot Ziva!" She stressed, trying not to cry, her mascara had already left tearstains.

Looking irked, he revised, "I mean, do you think they were shooting for Ziva or Adelaide Lefebvre. If they were shooting for Lefebvre then we can just pretend she's dead and not risk getting Ziva shot again." Abby murmured something under her breath and Tony chose, more than anything, to believe she was apologizing.

He felt like it was his fault. Hell, if he'd sat in the seat that Ziva had suggested he'd have blocked her from the shot. Tony didn't know if it was worse that she lived or died. It pained him to think of the expression that would be on her face when she learned she'd likely never run after another terrorist. Her Mossad career would be over, and without Mossad she didn't have a reason to be at NCIS. He'd damned her. If Ziva died… it would be like loosing Kate all over again, only there was no reprieve, no Ari to chase. The person who'd shot Ziva might not have even been aiming for her, there was a chance that the French woman sitting safely in NCIS custody might be the real target, and that was even harder to face.

"Stop it kid," Gibbs whispered, startling him out of his thinking. The senior agent had pulled up a chair and was focused on Ziva's form. "Your face gives away everything you're thinking, and you're going to kill yourself thinking like that. Ziva's strong; she wouldn't ever blame you for a risk she took. I convinced her to take it, Abby fitted the vest, and McGee wired her… it's not their fault." Gibbs left out that he was suffering similar guilt, but it was only a small bit of him, he knew Ziva was a warrior in ways that he'd never even imagined when she'd been assigned to him. There'd been a lot of anger, a lot of hate, when she'd first arrived, but she'd become one of his own, one of his agents. He was damn proud of her.

* * *

Dying hurt like hell.

Normally, Ziva equated pain with life, a sign that though you may not realize it blood ran in your veins, it carried your pain. This time though, it hurt so… completely. Her chest burned and her stomach throbbed. Fire seared her throat and tried to tempt her into begging for blackness, the flames of hell were coming to claim her, weren't they?

Ziva wasn't the most religious Israeli but she believed in a Heaven and a Hell, and she knew that the life of a solider wasn't becoming of Heaven, but she hoped. It was a cliché, hopelessly so, but she saw her life before her, the best and worst moments flowing by her, images flowing through her mind even though the pain earned most of her focus.

Ari was there, his rare smiles and the time in her childhood where she followed him like a little disciple, shooting a target, accurately, for the first time with his approving eyes settled on her. Her undercover work with him, to becoming his handler, it all flowed in a stream of memories, the pain was soon to come. She stood on the steps of Gibbs basement, pulling the trigger and watching Ari fall, her lamenting for him… nothing but pain.

Then there was white, nothing but white. She stood in the middle of it all, black silk hugging her frame, the Kevlar vest nor the bloodstains ruining the effect of her dress. Her hair was down, and feet were pleasantly bare, there was no pain.

"Am I dead?" Ziva murmured softly, this didn't seem like Hell, though it certainly wasn't heaven.

"Not dead," an unfamiliar voice answered. "Just really close."

She turned, slowly, to face a woman in a white suit. Ziva knew who she was, but she refused to admit it to herself, all she'd seen were pictures, her mind shouldn't have put _Kate_, a woman whose death was her brother's fault in her mind.

"Hello Ziva," Kate continued, her voice soft enough that it eased Ziva, just a bit. "You must be a bit startled. Though, I don't know what it's like… I died instantly," the soft laugh that trailed seemed natural. "I hadn't needed to choose."

There was a moment for Ziva to process, looking the other woman in the eyes. "I get to choose?" she asked softly. "Why?"

"Because your injuries, they can be conquered, if you have the strength—" Kate's eyes flashed, "—to conquer them. You're a good person too Ziva, you do what you have to, in the moment where it all matters. So you have to choose, life or Heaven."

"If I go with you, I will go to Heaven?" Ziva's tone was firm and so was the nod that followed. "But Gibbs, Abby, McGee," she paused. "Tony."

Kate smiled, any person who paused like that had inevitably gotten caught in Tony's web, it didn't surprise her though, and nothing did anymore. "I won't lie to you Ziva, if you come with me, into the light, you'll never see them, living, again. You may see them in the same way you see me now, but that'll bring you nothing but heartache, it won't last though, there'll be too much peace, love. If you go back, if you choose to fight, it'll be long, and it'll be hard, and no one will look at you the same way that they did before. They will push you more than they ever have before and they'll shelter you at the same time. You'll have to face your demons, one at a time." Kate took Ziva's hand, a gesture that the Israeli would normally never allow. "There will be, more than anything Ziva, pain. The pain will be with you for every single step, and it'll never completely fade."

The promise of peace or the promise of seeing the people she'd gotten close to again. The pain was a threat, but she could get over it with time. Ziva knew she was strong, just like Tony and Gibbs did, even though she didn't know what the challenge to her strength would be.

Her brow was set when she met Kate's eyes again. "Will the pain last forever?"

"No, Ziva, nothing lasts forever, it can only last as long as life itself," Kate admitted softly, the corners of her lips pulling up as she watched Ziva.

"I want to go back," Ziva answered, her tone was firm, her expression unshakable. "Never count me up."

"Out," Kate corrected with a laugh. "I won't count you out," she promised as she faded into nothingness and pain began again.

* * *

A/N: Hello NCIS fans! I hope you liked that chapter of _Simple Operations_. If you did, then a great way to express it is... -drum roll- reveiw!


	2. Visitors

Title: Simple Operations

Chapter: Visitors

Word Count: 2,396

Summary: All it takes is a single bullet, to ruin friendships and careers, to make friends and find love and turn colleagues into much more than that. The only thing they have to do to make life something better for all of them, is live.

--

* * *

When they declared Ziva stable enough for visitors, Abby had been the first to rush to her bedside; her hand claimed the only hand that could be held. McGee sat beside Abby, resting a palm on her leg, hoping to give her any comfort than he could. Gibbs had waited a while, he let Abby get out the next set of tears that smudged her makeup and made her look ten years younger. Gibbs hated seeing his team this way, so broken down. What he needed, what he though Ziva needed, was for Abby to have that bullet, and start processing evidence. It'd been hours since they got here, Agent Lee's team had to have something for them.

Yet a silence settled over them, not a comfortable, companionable silence, but the kind that chilled you to the bone, interrupted only by sometimes uneven beeping. It was Ziva's _heart_ they were hearing, yet it sputtered, and sometimes got a bit too fast; more than once they were pushed out of the room for a 'code blue', Doctor Mariner keeping them updated when they couldn't be in the room.

"Abby," Gibbs called, leaning against the glass of the ICU, his face still a mask of hidden worry and the slightest bit of guilt. No one else might have seen it but it was plain as day to Abby, and she threw her arms around him, knowing he wouldn't push her away just yet.

"She'll be okay, won't she Gibbs?" Abby asked softly, her eyes melting a bit more, tears giving them a glassy look. "Ziva's strong, Gibbs! She has to make it."

He stood in silence, knowing she was talking more to herself than anyone else. When she looked up to him for reassurance, he nodded. "Yeah Abby, Ziva's strong, she'll make it. You know she'll make it," he pointed out for good measure. Abby smiled softly, the worn expression brightening her face as she grabbed for ponytails holders, starting to put her hair up.

"Rule number eight, right Gibbs?"

Smiling for the first time that night he even managed a rough laugh. "That's my girl. Do you think you could head back to you lab to check the evidence? Mariner said he'd sent the bullet and Lee's team has to have something at this point."

"What if she wakes up?" Abby asked, looking distraught that Ziva might wake up while she was away. She wanted to support Ziva in every step of her recovery, that was the kind of person, the kind of friend that she was.

"She'll understand," he assured her; he had no doubt that she would want the person who shot her behind bars. Though, it would take some convincing to make her not want to participate in the interrogation, even if she couldn't walk there were still things that Mossad had taught her and he understood wanting revenge, but he planned to get it for her.

Sighing, Abby nodded, grabbing McGee by the corner of his jacket and tugging. "Come on, we're going back to the lab." He made to protest but Abby shot him a look that made him nod, following after her without another word.

Gibbs took his chance, Mariner had cleared them to go back into the room and he knew, despite his rules, that Tony needed a while to think, he couldn't have his senior agent suffering from guilt when he was going to be needed.

"You need a moment with her DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked, though he knew the answer and was going to make him. He _knew_ what Tony needed.

Tony looked at him for a moment before nodding, his quiet state testament to the fact Gibbs was right, even if he didn't know it yet.

* * *

Tony walked to the bedside, his hand hovering over hers before running his fingers, lightly, over the curve of her hand. "Abby went back to the lab with McGee, process evidence, you know the drill. Abs took a good bit of convincing though. Gibbs gave me the chance to come talk with you… well, speak to you alone." Tony leaned against the wall, his eyes settling anywhere but her face. It wasn't like she had a bullet hole in her forehead like Kate did, but it felt wrong seeing her like this. Her attentive eyes were closed, with the two codes that had already been called… he thought her eyes may never open again.

"You don't look right in the hospital," he commented. "It's all the tubes and IVs, you're supposed to be invincible you know. There aren't a lot of movies where the tough Israeli dies, especially if she's a woman." Tony looked up at the heart rate monitor… the beeping was steady.

"Actually," he started with just a bit of a laugh. "There was the movie 'Don't Mess with the Zohan' recently, Adam Sandler, funny guy, plays an Israeli counter terrorist. He has to defeat this terrorist who wants to kill him, only he has to do it through hacky sack and saving neighborhoods," Tony paused, for once, retelling a movie he enjoyed didn't lift his spirits, it was seeing her like this…

"I feel really guilty Ziva," his voice was soft, the heart rate monitor jumped a couple of digits, confirmation… she heard, even if she didn't understand. "You suggested I sit on the other side of you, I hope you didn't feel the target on you, only Gibbs is supposed to have ninja instincts."

Looking out the window, Tony took the chance to look away from Ziva, his eyes darker than normal, fear, guilt, and trepidation getting to him. If he looked at her… he knew she'd know. You didn't have to see someone's eyes to feel their gaze on you. She'd noticed something in his eyes before, the way pupils dilated, _something_ let him be read like a book, but kept her a complete mystery.

Tony felt the corners of his lips pull up, though he sure as hell didn't feel like smiling. "I'm normally so good with women too, yet _you_," he couldn't finish. Walking back to her bedside, he sat down, not hesitating as he took her hand in his. It was soft; he'd expected fingers as callused as his own.

His eyes were resolute, soft, though his expression was set in steel, unbendable. "I'll help you Ziva, when you wake up, hell, I'll carry you if you want me to. Before I can do that though, you have to stay with us, and you have to wake up when you can. I _need_ you to wake up," he admitted. "We all need you to wake up, okay Ziva?"

The beeping picked up again, the numbers sputtering up till they reached one-fifty. Tony smiled roughly, running a finger along hers. He knew she'd try; she wasn't the type to give up.

* * *

Abby's lab was too quiet. She didn't have any music for a friend who was nearly dying. Dirges, they didn't fit, she didn't _want_ them to fit in Ziva's case. There were other types of music that could be considered, lots of break up music, vengeful and some down right creepy. Emily Autumn worked in some ways, but Abby wasn't just angry. She was very, very angry, but she was mourning at the same time… wanted nothing more than to see Ziva get better.

If only she liked country music. She was sure there was some sort of song in that genre for this sort of situation; country music was really, really depressing.

Abby settled on working in silence, heading to the box of evidence sitting on her table. A scrap of paper, shoe prints from a combat boot, photos and guesses at trajectory… it was all there, and it was hard to look at.

When she got out the dress… that was when she started crying again, the black of the mascara and the tears blurring her vision.

Her gloves on, she poked a finger through the hole in the dress after measuring the diameter. "We have to get whoever did this," she whispered to a nearby bobble head, pressing its head and watching it nod. Abby plucked the imbedded strains of Kevlar out of the silk, trying to see how clearly defined the shape was.

It was distinct, circular, and long-distance-looking. Picking up a picture of the scene she walked over to her computer, pulling up a 3D model of the restaurant and the surrounding area. The bullet was only stopped by the Kevlar in the back, so she could use the indentation to figure out its speed… leaving variables for the type of gun she mapped out the trajectory, accounting for windows and doors.

It only took a few moments for her to get her answers, her smile of satisfaction at getting them quickly faded. It was a sniper, it had to be, a good one at that to even hit Ziva… if not for the breeze... oh god.

Abby wiped away the tears that had collected and grabbed for her phone.

* * *

Ari was with Ziva, in her mind. He rolled his eyes and looked out the window of the safe house, moving his bishop forward on the board, his lips pulling back over white teeth. "Check," he stated, though his tone was reprimanding. There was something familiar in the curve of his eyes; the familiar color beckoned her, though it turned most away instantly.

"Your eyes are lovely Ziva," he said, a corner of his mouth pulling up as she pulled a hand back from her knight.

"Stop trying to mess me up Ari," she murmured in hushed Hebrew. "It won't work this time," she informed, moving her knight and taking herself out of check.

He laughed a deep, rumbling laugh that seemed to start far inside of him. Ari's fingers were sure as they moved his Queen. "You see this lady?" He pointed to the queen. "She's the most powerful player on the board, she can move where ever she needs. I understand why there are women in Mossad, they are powerful. No one stops a woman in her respectable garb, she doesn't appear threatening."

Ziva heard the chauvinism in his voice, she just ignored it though. Even her father was a chauvinist, no matter the fact his daughters were in the field, just like his sons.

Her own Queen was in danger; Ari's knight was posed to take her. There was a move that would save her, and Ziva took it, her eyes shining.

"Check," she called, the corners of her lips pulling up as Ari smiled.

When he stood, she stood, and the surroundings faded around them.

Ari's expression turned into a dangerous one, his eyes flashing as he pushed her against a blank wall. "Why Ziva?" he whispered to her, running a calloused fingers over her cheek, his teeth clamping. "You could have let Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs die. There would have been fallout, but _I_ could have kept us safe on the run." Ari paused in his anger, scowling, "Not only did you _kill_ me; you took my body back to Tel Aviv. The least you could have done for me was dumping my body in the river!" His nostrils flared and Ziva watched. Her heart didn't want to break for her half-brother, little pieces chipped away though, and the pain was growing with every piece.

A hand found her throat, keeping her pressed to the wall as he leaned into her, peppermint and the faint scent of chewing tobacco on his breath… still the same after all this time. His eyes beckoned her in no matter how dangerous they looked.

"I had to do the right thing. If I had let Gibbs die you would have killed me, you _know_ you would have Ari! It's instinct to cover your tracts. Plus, you were working for Hamas, I couldn't have trusted you if I'd wanted to," Ziva's voice was hard, but it wavered, her eyes wavered.

"Convince yourself of that, you'll never convince _me_ if you can't convince yourself," a smile warped his face as he pressed into her windpipe, leaving her unable to draw breath.

Ari's deep voice, a rumble that rose from the middle of him, quivered as he began to sing a mourning prayer for Ziva. He stroked her cheek as he strangled her, watching as her eyes attempted to lull back into her head, and she fought futilely for breath.

Everything began to fade, except the hand on her throat and the sweet trill of Ari's song, rising above the pain… consuming her.

* * *

"She's coding!" Nurse Brenda shouted. Her desperate tone let Tony know this wasn't good even before he was pushed out of the room.

"How long?" Mariner called as he ran into the room, looking up at the plummeting heart rate on the monitor above Ziva's bed, it had flat lined only a moment before.

"Twenty seconds, tops," Brenda assured as she ran for a crash cart. Mariner's hands rested over her chest and pushed, trying desperately to restart her heart. He knew this patient wasn't too far gone, he could still save her.

Tony looked to Gibbs with wide, desperate eyes, and the eyes that met his were masked. Gibbs wouldn't let his own panic affect Tony. No one wanted it to end like this. Tony had smiled and Gibbs had assumed he wasn't loosing another agent. Abby thought Ziva was stable.

Nothing was in the air for a long time, no breathing, no hope, no silence, yet no one paid attention to the sound. Agonizing second after agonizing second ticked by, every tick of the clock hurt like a stab to the heart; Tony could hardly keep his knees from buckling under him.

It was a minute. Her heart stopped for more than a minute, exactly eighty-two seconds. She had left them for over a minute, she'd left _him_ for more than a minute.

It was hard to imagine what had possibly happened to cause Ziva to come so close to death. Tony didn't even want to guess why. Gibbs… he'd never admit it, but his gut had warned him something was wrong. He'd heard the prayer that Ziva had sung to her brother, it's tone darker and the voice that sung it stronger, it's sweet trill rising above all of his worries.

* * *

--

A/N: Don't expect updates that fast normally. It was the number of reviews that inspired me. Also, I got to pen down the last line or two during class so I had a good starting point. Let me tell you, eighth grade is a drag. Also! If you liked it, are p. at me, or want to give me feedback you should leave me a review… you've seen how it stimulates the update monkeys.


	3. Not There

Title: Simple Operations

Chapter: Not There

Word Count: 1,902

Summary: All it takes is a single bullet, to ruin friendships and careers, to make friends and find love and turn colleagues into much more than that. The only thing they have to do to make life something better for all of them, is live.

----

Abby pushed McGee into motion, her brow set as she pointed to the computer screen, a bold red line showing the trajectory of the bullet against a blue backdrop. "See McGee! It was a sniper, and a damn good one at that." He nodded and she mirrored it, her simulations were always right.

"So, what you're saying it that the..." McGee looked to the district map on her table. "Anne Automobile Centre was the snipers nest? That doesn't make any sense Abby, that building would be open at seven, plus it's _bound_ to have at least one security guard. They'd have to be a pro."

"Exactly, the shot was hinky enough, at an angle and in a public place. It's _defiantly_ a pro who shot Ziva. That's why the theory that they were aiming for Adelaide Lefebvre doesn't work," she exclaimed, looking a bit excited though what she was implying was grim… her nature to discover just couldn't be turned off. "Someone could guess that through the scope it may look like Lefebvre, but it would have been near impossible to see Ziva at all, so he probably had a spotter who told him who he was looking for where to aim—"

"Which means they would be staff or have a reservation," he finished for her, his eyes lit up for the first time. If the restaurant wasn't willing to cooperate they could get a search warrant with this information. He could have kissed Abby.

Abby beamed back at him, though she sobered a moment later, her expression not nearly as pleased. "That means they were going after Ziva though McGee," she looked back to the simulation on the screen, her lips twisting in a grimace. "If there was a spotter we have to assume that they know she wasn't Lefebvre."

He nodded, resting a hand on her shoulder for a moment, pulling it back a moment later. "Abby, you did a great job; we can't help what you found… now we can protect Ziva until she can protect herself." She nodded hugging him before reaching for her phone yet again, handing it to him.

"You get to tell Gibbs." McGee groaned and he started dialing.

----

"It's a Sniper?" Gibbs asked, his tone of voice a bit rougher than McGee would have hoped.

"_Yeah Boss, Abby recons it was a pro with a spotter._"

"McGee! Why aren't you—"

"_I'm pulling security footage, the reservations list, and the names of the staff as we speak_."

"Good job McGee, call me when you get anything. Keep the Director and Agent Lee's team in the loop, officially I handed over the investigation, so until I get it back…"

"_I understand Boss._"

Gibbs hung up. Taking a deep breath he looked through the plate glass ICU window at his agents. DiNozzo was dozing off, though with the way he was fighting sleep you'd think he thought that her survival rested on him staying awake. He walked in and tapped DiNozzo on the head, not as hard as the normal slap but enough to jolt him into attention.

He slipped a coffee cup into Tony's hand, and their eyes met. He used to be grateful for the fact he could read DiNozzo like an open book, now he wished Tony was as difficult to read, on the surface, as Ziva was.

Too much guilt and anger, if no one reined those emotions in for him he'd be on his way to turning into an old, bitter, workaholic. If Ziva didn't make it… well that wasn't an option.

"Tony, when Ziva wakes up she's going to need a protection detail," Gibbs informed, no time like the present to give him Abby's news.

He looked confused, one brow rising. "Boss, if we just pretend that Lefebvre is dead they should go away. They wouldn't want to waste time hunting and shooting after dead French arms dealers."

"They weren't after Lefebvre, Tony," Gibbs stated, his voice had that same obstinate quality to it… he was sure.

"What? How do you know?" Tony insisted, a defiant set to his jaw.

"Abby called, sniper, the range was too far for the scope, he had to have had a spotter, and a professional spotter would use an ID or photo, not someone's _word_ that they were looking at the right person."

DiNozzo took a swig of the coffee, letting it burn his throat. It blocked unwanted thoughts and worries, letting him focus on the physical pain. "I'll do it boss, be her detail, I'm obviously qualified to," he said certainly, his voice might have been certain but his eyes wavered.

"Oh I know you're good at protection detail DiNozzo, I'm just curious if you can be objective," Gibbs countered. He knew Tony was too invested, but those investments didn't always turn out to be as good of a motivator as one might have thought.

There was a chance, minimal and decreasing every second, that Tony could still look at Ziva and only see a friend, a coworker, and a charge. It decreased further when Gibbs noticed Ziva's fingers curled limply around Tony's.

"Tony?"

DiNozzo's eyes flashed, and for a moment he looked as pissed as he felt. "Were you objective about finding Ari? Are you _going_ to be objective in finding the bastard who did this Ziva and getting him to confess?" Tony watched Gibbs darkening expression.

"No." Gibbs stood, pursing his lips and looking at the younger agent. "I'm not going to tell you it's different, because it's not, but _I'm_ not the one who was with her in that restaurant. I just want justice for my agent."

Straightening his jacket, Gibbs met Tony's eyes, both were serious, both wouldn't stand down in this situation. "Tony, get some sleep, there's a bed down the hall, at the first sign she's waking up I'll get you."

DiNozzo tried to argue, but there was that thing in Gibbs' eyes that wouldn't let him.

----

Tony dreamed. He was in a hotel room in Paris, the curtains drawn and a soft glow colored the room a lovely shade of gold. Jeanne Benoit ran a hand over his chest, her frame shadowed. Dreams don't feel regret, not normally, yet his heart ached as he looked at her, she was smiling.

"Do you miss me?" she whispered softly, her fingers trailing over his shoulder, other hand leading his to her shoulder. "I miss you, you have no idea how much I miss you. People keep smiling and laughing, and they expect me to do the same. They expect me to be the same as I was before I was with you." Jeanne grinned softly.

"I'm not the same as I was back then either, Jeanne."

"Tony," she whispered, something dancing in her eyes besides the tears. "I loved you, and you love me… no matter what you said. I know you loved me."

"I did love you," he whispered, but she gave a soft laugh, a corner of her mouth tugging up.

"I _know_ you still do love me, no one falls out of love that quickly," Jeanne smiled softly and pulled herself closer to her, her warm frame quickly on top of his. The blankets, dull gold with a light silky sheen were the only cover.

The room didn't change, but the moans and the weight and the frame of the woman on top of him abruptly did. Milky skin took on a tan and straight brown locks turned a deeper color, curling. The light that shone into the room lessened and turned a soft white… the moon hung low over Paris.

Her lips pressed against his ear, and he refused to think her name, or look her in the eyes. "Tony je t'aime mon chéri," she whispered to him, he could feel her smirk in her voice.

"Why is it that the one that _isn't_ French speaking to me in French?"

"You want it in Hebrew? Ani ohevet atah," again, her voice trailed… a sweet timber to her voice.

"What in the world are you saying to me?" he finally asked, he didn't speak French or Hebrew… if she repeated it in Spanish he might have a clue.

"I love you Tony," she whispered, her lips trailing over the lobe of his ear.

"Ziva," he whispered back, his voice seemed torn, trapped in a struggle that dream-Ziva didn't understand. "You don't love me," he told her, looking to her eyes as realization settled in them.

"What happened to us DiNozzo?" Ziva asked, hesitation in her voice.

"Nothing to me," Tony admitted. "You're in a coma, I don't know why, I don't understand medical jargon. I did it to you though. It was all my fault."

"A coma? How am I in a coma? Surely you it was not your fault." she asked as she stood, forgetting to take the blanket with her and giving him a pleasant mental image, his mind may have been painting the picture… but he liked what was on the canvas.

He stood up and walked to her, running a finger along her cheek. "It doesn't matter Ziva… how… that is. You're going to wake up, and get better, right?"

Tony had everything resting on his dream-Ziva saying that one little word. He knew it was silly to let his hope lie on something his mind controlled, but he did.

Ziva's lips briefly met his, her eyes shimmering softly in the dull Paris moon. "Yes. I will wake up Tony, you should not doubt me."

"It was myself I doubted Ziva."

----

Tony wasn't there when Ziva's eyes fluttered open. She knew Gibbs was there, his head gently bowed over a paper though his eyes were closed. No one was there beside Gibbs and she only had a moment to realize it, her heart rate spiking and her world slipping to a comatose black... Ziva realized Tony hadn't been there.

----

On the south side of DC a man in heavy shades smirked in a self satisfied way. His tan gave him a healthy glow, though it looked more ethnic than sporty, and his smug air reeked of a job well done.

He held out a hand to a woman with decidedly Israeli features, a Star of David pendant hanging about her neck. She looked skeptical more than anything, a brow pulling up.

"Did you kill her?" she asked in thickly accented English, a dangerous note to her voice.

"Relax Abijah, the first shot missed, but you should have expected at much. Ziva will be out of work for long enough to guarantee… them… their time frame," he explained, his accent was less noticeable than Abijah's with a different twang to it.

"Do not use my name, _Behram_," she stressed her point by watching the panicked look that crossed over his face when she used his own name. "I will pay you half now, put you will kill her before the time frame runs out or they will have your head, do not doubt that."

With a roll of his eyes he took the stack of bills passed from her. "You Israeli's need to put more faith in us, by Allah's will it _will_ be done."

Abijah crossed her arms, letting him get a glance at the tactical knife on her waist. "Your Allah is not where I put my faith. You do it, or I kill you."


	4. NOTE TO THE READERS MOVING ACCOUNTS

A/n: Do not fret my dear readers! This story is soooo not dead, I just go bogged down with school and lots of evil things. If you want to continue reading, well, then head over to the user Cold Embrace, who will post the fourth chapter of SO shortly :)


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